


Words that Water Flowers

by HerGambitandSwanSong



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU: Blade of Marmora hasn't happened, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Shiro (Voltron), Comfort/Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Made Keith a wuss, Sad Keith (Voltron), Short One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts, Transformation, blade of marmora never happened, galra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerGambitandSwanSong/pseuds/HerGambitandSwanSong
Summary: His denial could only go so far.





	Words that Water Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I should be studying for finals but let's be real, that isn't going to happen. Also didn't look this over so it is 98% trash.
> 
> Keith is probably going to seem OOC, but let I said previously- 98% trash.

_"I believe in you," Words that water flowers. - Michael Faudet_

 

* * *

 

 

Keith never cared about his height, until he did.  
  
Another problem that seems to arise is a second growth spurt. He realizes this when he becomes eye level with Lance.  
It's not a pleasant situation for both parties included. One, totally and utterly baffled at his rival surpassing him at something.  
The other hoping to whatever higher space entity, that it would stop. Because honestly, he couldn't explain it.  
  
If only things were simple. While purple bruises slowly extending across his arm and collar bone is coverable, height isn't.  
He finds his civilian clothes are an inch too short, making him look ridiculous, preparing for a nonexistent flood. He slouches  
to make himself look smaller and sags his shoulders, but ultimately it doesn't seem to work.  
  
He lies about where he's headed and makes a trip to a local planet they're passing by. His uniform is the only thing that remains not problematic.  
It fits and adjusts given any size, the only relief to come out of the situation.  
  
Walking around, Keith finds stores with clothes relatively easy. After some bargaining, he's headed up to the Castle, with the optimistic belief it will  
be the only time he has to go.  
  
If only that were true. Not only does the purple bruises keep spreading- if not quicker now- but now his ears have started to give him trouble.  
The ache and pain becomes a constant in life as they start to shift and change. Spiking simultaneously with his nails, they grow thicker and sharper.  
To top it off, he's an inch past Shiro's height now, and not slowing down.  
  
Shiro does lend him clothes he bought from passing planets, reassuring him that it is a natural shoot up later in his teens, ' _guys don't stop_  
_growing till around 23._ ' Keith only just nods silently with a heavy heart and takes the clothes. They don't end up fitting him a week later.

Lance is beyond annoyed to the point of calling Keith childish names like, bean-stock as an insult. Hunk doesn't mind, it had never really fazed him- maybe peeked his curiosity- but ever fazed. Shiro is doing what every big brother does with their siblings: smile, give them old clothes, and hope to God they don't get taller. Allura and Coran don't really mind either, as a race of naturally taller species nothing seems off to them. However, Keith gets the feeling that soon it will be. Pidge may be his old problem now. Almost jokingly short when put beside Keith, Pidge automatically gets defensive, going on about when they'll have a growth spurt. He towers over Pidge and hates it. All his limbs are longer making him constantly having to adjust to his fighting technique and style.

Another week passes and they are all getting out of their lions after a training session when Allura looks up at him funny. "Is it normal for humans to grow this much?" She wonders out loud. All eyes fall on Keith, who only plays with his gloves in discomfort. "Or is this group shorter then the rest?"

"S'cuse me?!" Lance exclaims coming out of his lion, the comment obviously hitting a nerve.

"I mean, back on Earth my mom has a cousin that's pretty tall, and I guess some athletes are too." Hunk points out. 

"Yeah, but they have proper diets." Pidge counters, "And we don't."

Hunk pouts in thought, taking in consideration more factors, "Maybe it's genetics. His dad could be just as tall as him."

"Could we stop talking about this?" Keith cuts in irritated, arms crossed. "Who cares about my height anyways." He stalks off before any of them can speak.

 

* * *

 

 

Back in his room, he takes off his uniform, slipping into something comfortable and heading towards the bathroom.

There isn't any warmth in the Castle. No memories to be reminisced, and laughter to be done. It feels more like a prison then a permanent homestead. Even the bathroom, while being strictly for hygiene doesn't seem apart of anything either. Too clean and untouched, too perfect to be homey.

From the reflection, his hair is matted down from sweat and the constraints of the helmet. He can see that the purple bruises have covered pretty much his entire torso and left arm. It has extended to his neck, stretching behind it. Two pointed ears stuck out from his hair and his canine and incisors are noticeably much sharper the other other teeth.

A sob chokes it way up his throat as he takes in his full self. he cares about his height- his appearance- because it seemed as the days go by, he looks less and less human. He wants to stay human. Wants to go back to Earth one day and be welcomed, not poked, prodded, and studied.

Things go from bad to disastrous extremely quickly, when his eyes turn an eerie pupil-less yellow. He wants to claw them out, an act he could very well do nowadays with claw-like fingers. Instead, he lays on his bathroom quarter's floor and zones out. He refused to admit it would come this far. He could deny the purple blotches on his body as merely bruises of suggestive fashion, the sharp teeth as a hallucination and pointed ears as a common occurrence as people get older; noses continuously grow, who said ears couldn't?

But the yellow eyes? His denial could only refuse reality to an extent.

He stares at the pristine ivory wall, and finds himself envying it. Perfect, flawless, and the shade of supposed purity and innocence. Why couldn't he be like that? Why did he have to have baggage and a hated gene?

There wasn't hiding it anymore, Keith knew that. The eyes were an instant give away and the purple encasing his body was a little past his jawline now. If he went outside the confines of his quarters, the risk of getting attacked was more possible then it had been a month prior.

With hot tears running down his face, he held a small communicator in his palm, staring at it with such trepidation that he was sure it would grow legs and attack him. It was too late to make excuses, too late to say that it just randomly happened without him noticing overnight. He took a shaky breath, whispering a patient mantra before turning the little machine in his oversized hand on.

"Shiro," His voice couldn't help but quiver in fear. "Can you come to my room, please... alone."

Not waiting for the response, he set the communicator on the floor gently, left his hands laying liply by his legs and stared at the ivory walls in silence.

 

How he wished.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn't take Keith long before he could hear the door to his quarter's slide open. What surprised him even more was the clench of pain in his chest when he heard Shiro call out his name in concern.

"In here," He said halfheartedly.

"Keith, buddy, are you okay?" His voice is laced with genuine concern. He's right outside the door now, Keith can hear it.

Keith can't help but sob quietly to himself. He looks up at the ceiling, eyes burning. He wants to say that he's okay, that he wants to come clean about everything, but for the best, and bravest pilot in of his generation, he devolves into a complete coward instantly. How ironic for those the most daring with adventure to be scared of the most simplest thing.

"I'm sorry," he rasps out instead. "I'm so sorry."

"Keith, what's wrong? What are you sorry about?" Shiro says more urgently. "Can I come in?"

There is a moment of silence before the Black Paladin takes it as a yes, "Okay, I'm coming in."

Keith wills himself to shut his eyes, bottom lip quivering with a sob trying to escape like the rest. The reaction of Shiro is just not something he can bear to witness. He hears the bathroom door slide open and the footsteps of his brotherly figure approaching.

There's an unnerving amount of silence in the first couple of seconds. Keith keeps his eyes shut, laying on the floor like some broken puppet in search of its puppeteer.

"Keith," He heaars his voice being said.  It doesn't register to him if there is any emotional context to it. All he can hear in this wind tunnel is his name.

"M'sorry," He mumbles to himself, head shaking from left to right. "I'm sorry. I don't want this, I don't want to be the freak."

He starts to slowly get up, eyes still squeezed shut. Fumbling for the knife always at his side, he stands up and opens his eyes. His eyes don't meet Shiro's instantly. They hover above his brotherly figure's head, due to the foot difference in height now. It takes time for his pupil-less eyes to make its way down Shiro's face. his attention passes the sole white strains of hair, a memento of the type of people he is related in blood too: cold-hearted, murderous, demonic.  A reminder of the kind of people that they're facing, both in future battles and in front of them.

Finally their eyes meet each other. While his are rimmed pink against the yellow contrast, Shiro's is unreadable. He can't bear to to see the disappointment, disgust, spite, betrayal in the older man's face. instead, he lifts his knife up. Hilt facing Shiro and gingerly extends it to him.

Surprise is the the first emotion Keith sees finally in Shiro. The shock displayed with wide eyes and blown out pupils. Keith's gaze falls to the floor.

"Don't let me be this," He mumbles, pressing the hilt of the knife against Shiro's chest; silently willing him to take it. "Please."

Slowly, Shiro wraps his fingers around the hilt. Keith doesn't realize he's holding his breath, until he suddenly takes a deep, shaky exhale. Tears form in eyes, attempting to blink them away. The pain in his chest is unbearable, not only is he begging his brotherly figure to end him, but because he might actually go through with it. His walls crumbled away before Shiro's eyes, a scared boy replacing the less than human figure.

In the end he was always just a kid. He pretended to know what he was doing, pretended to act out of confidence not fear, but in reality, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He was terrified to lose the people around him, the people he had slowly come to love as family.

With the knife now in the black paladin's possession, Keith bit his lip, opening his eyes and taking a deep breath. This was the only way he could redeem himself, the only way he wouldn't let his family down.

"I won't let you be like this," Shiro reaffirms softly. His eyes crinkle at the edges, hardening with a newly discovered determination. One, more hopeful and alive then before. No longer with the goal to just survive and win, but also thrive. Something inside Keith sparks to life, flickering a new flame, bigger and brighter then the old.

"I'll let you be better." Shiro finishes.

It's so quick that Keith can only see a flash of metal before there is the sound of object clashing against a hard surface and an echoing thud of metal.

Behind Keith, just a little left of his ear, a tiny indent with a scratch at its center marks the ivory wall. The knife, laying at the foot of impact.

 

No longer perfect, but improving.

  
 


End file.
